


Preparations, Procrastinations and Princesses

by MrsHamill



Series: Raising Madison [5]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A month in the life and Christmas with the Cleavers: turkey with a side of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preparations, Procrastinations and Princesses

**Author's Note:**

> Number five in the Raising Madison series, follows _Revenge of the Mommy_ directly. Thanks to Susan who continues to get stuck beta-ing these little monsters. Anything left is mine, as usual, because I'm pretty much hopeless.

John woke slowly, awareness creeping up on him. He noted the household around him -- Rodney's gentle snores behind him, silence from Madison's room, Beelzebub pacing outside their bedroom door, voicing her displeasure about the party the night before. She was a one-family cat and outsiders simply weren't tolerated, though she'd finally warmed up to John. It might have been because he'd been feeding her but he liked to think it was his magnetic personality.

Wait. Party. John raised his hand and looked -- sure enough there was a ring on his left ring finger. The metal looked even prettier in the dim early morning light than it had the night before. He was married. He was married to _Rodney._

He figured he really should be freaking out about now.

He waited for a little while, looking at his hand, nudging the lump cuddled up to his back, listening for Madison the day-breaker. Nope, still not freaking out. Weird.

His bladder insisted he rise so he did, throwing on some sweatpants and a long-sleeved sweatshirt. The clock told him it was early but much later than the time Madison usually rose; he should check up on her. Beelz was planted with her nose in the corner of the door so she got kicked, again, as usual, and John thought cats were supposed to be quick learners. He closed the door behind him, making sure Beelz wasn't in the room, then went into the bathroom to take care of business. 

Finished, John opened Madison's door and peeked in. She was completely out, wearing her nightgown and the tiara and flowers from yesterday. She must have really been exhausted -- John had to smile when he recalled going into her room as people began leaving. He'd found her curled up on Ronon's lap, fast asleep. Ronon had been sitting on her bed, reading _The Homeward Bounders_. He'd looked up as John entered. 

"She passed out on you, huh?" John had asked, grinning.

"Yeah," Ronon had said softly. "I didn't want to wake her."

"S'okay, when she's that asleep, you could set off a bomb and she wouldn't even jump. Let me get her." Well-versed in Madison, John had picked her up and stripped off the obnoxious princess dress. Her nightgown had been under her pillow as usual, and with a few deft movements, he'd gotten it over her head and smoothed down without her so much as twitching. "I need to put her on the toilet before  putting her to bed. I think the party's breaking up."

"Okay." Ronon had stood and stretched. "This is a good book. Can I borrow it?"

John had smiled -- what better book for Ronon? "Sure. Keep it. We've already read it and I can get another copy pretty easily. She'll be glad you're reading it." 

"Okay." Before he'd left, Ronon had turned back. "She's a great kid, Sheppard. The three of you are going to move back to Atlantis, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. In a couple of months."

"Good." Ronon had nodded and then had slipped out of Madison's room.

John was certain he'd taken off the tiara before tucking her back under her covers so she must have woken at some point in the night and put it back on. The fact that she'd slept in to past daybreak just underscored how exhausted she'd been the night before. John closed the door as softly as he'd opened it. He had a few minutes of morning time to himself and he was going to take it.

He fed Beelz, put a pot of coffee on, and opened the front door to get the paper. It was bitterly cold but there had been no snow yet, a reprieve he was grateful for since he'd been warned about Canadian winters. The sun was just beginning to rise but the streetlights were still on and illuminating a big, foreign-made black car with tinted windshields parked across the street, just out of the cul-de-sac. He stood on the stoop, blinking and frowning. None of their neighbors had such a car. Could it be leftover from the evening before?

Even as he thought that, the car started and drove away, quickly. Not a good sign.

He frowned in thought over the incident as he returned to the house. Finally, he decided it wasn't significant enough to mention, though he was going to make sure to keep his eyes peeled for other strange cars or people. With that thought filed in the back of his brain, he got himself some coffee and opened the paper.

Half an hour later, Rodney woke and stumbled into the kitchen. "How can I be hungover when I only had three beers?" he muttered as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Face it, Rodney," John said without glancing up, "you've turned into a lightweight."

"Ha ha." He doctored his coffee and took a sip, slumping against the counter. "Hey, wait. Where's Maddie?"

"Still asleep."

"Still?" Rodney blinked at him. "Is she still _there_? Is she still _alive_?"

John rolled his eyes. "Yes, Rodney, she's still there and fine. Ronon must have worn her out. We might have finally found a cure for the early-wakies in him."

"Well, he's just a big kid anyway, so they should be kindred spirits. I saw him with a book as he left--"

Madison stood in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching her stuffed dog and yawning. "Well, good morning, sleepy-head," John said, putting the paper down and opening his arms.

Still yawning, she let him boost her onto his lap, then buried her head under his chin. "G'morning," she murmured. 

"Did you have a good time last night?" John asked, rubbing her back, enjoying the cuddle.

"Uh-huh." She suddenly sat up straight. "Lemme see your hand," she demanded, picking up John's left hand and fingering the ring there. "Unca Mer?"

Rodney was grinning, but he also put his hand in hers. "Yes, Three-M, we're actually married."

"Good." She once again cuddled up to John. "I gots to check." John grinned at Rodney and once again marveled at the freaking out they weren't doing. 

"Ronon borrowed _The Homeward Bounders,_ Beav," he said. "Did you show it to him?"

"Uh-huh." She pulled back enough to see John. "What's for breakfast? Can I have French toast? I'm gonna marry Ronon when I grow up."

John was incredibly grateful that he didn't snort coffee out his nose at that, the way Rodney did. 

* * *

Mornings were getting more difficult as Madison suddenly realized she knew what she was missing, which was staying home and goofing off rather than working at school. Each morning it took bit longer to get her dressed, fed and out the door in time. All the parenting books he'd skimmed at the library told him this phase didn't really start until puberty and the teen years -- something he was looking forward to with all the anticipation of a root canal -- but Madison was often ahead of the curve. 

However, if it lasted much longer, she was going to get drop-kicked off the central spire of Atlantis.

John had never considered himself to be paranoid; it wasn't paranoia when they were really out to get you. He called it an overabundance of caution. It's what made him check his rear-view mirror more frequently as he drove Madison to and from school. It's what made him mention to their neighbor, old man Giddrick, that there seemed to be a lot of strange cars in the cul-de-sac these days. It's what made him take just a few extra precautions around the house, like making sure all the doors were locked when no one was there.

They had dedicated cell phones now, now that it was certain they'd be moving back to Atlantis in the new year, phones that connected them to both the Mountain and any ship in orbit, usually the Odyssey. John rarely used his but the second time he saw the dark car in the cul-de-sac, he did. He made sure to be in the truck before he called Mitchell.

"You want a what?" Mitchell asked, and he could hear a sound suspiciously like darts hitting a dart board in the background.

"You know, something to check the house for bugs." John sighed. "We've got a situation here with Rodney's mother being... well, did you ever see the movie _Mommy Dearest_?"

A technician beamed down half an hour after that conversation and swept the entire house, but came up empty. Mitchell promised to look into the car's tags and told John he was paranoid. Still, John had a creeping feeling that he wasn't.

A week after they'd been married, John was called by the school. He was lucky they'd caught him at home. "It's our policy to get written permission from anyone not in the immediate family to pick up a student," Mrs. Garson, the assistant to the dean said. "Her grandmother was not on the list you--"

"Wait," John interrupted. "Did Branwen McKay try to get Madison?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry that--"

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," John replied, seething. "I'll be right there. I can give you verbal instructions that I'll replace with written as soon as I arrive -- Branwen McKay is not to get within a half mile of Madison. Is that clear?"

"Ah." Mrs. Garson was late middle age and when he'd met her, he figured that she'd been around the block a couple of times. "Very well, Mr. Sheppard. I'll see you shortly."

He probably broke a few speed limits on his way to Phelps and it was a good thing he wasn't pulled over, since he was having a hard time controlling his anger. Mrs. Garson was waiting for him and told him Rodney's mother had left in a huff before she'd called John. There was more paperwork to fill out, limiting who could and could not pick up or even see Madison, and some of it had to be signed by Rodney.

"I'm going to his office right now," John said. "Do you need him in person?"

"You're listed as co-guardian, along with Dr. McKay, so technically, no." She took the forms he'd signed and handed him a few for Rodney. "Though it would probably be a good idea to dot the 'i's and cross the 't's. I had the impression that Mrs. McKay has a substantial amount of money and in my experience with such people, the best defense is a good offense."

"I'll get him over here before the end of the day," John said, nodding. "Thank you, by the way."

She waved a hand. "If you think this is the first custody dispute we've had, then you're in for a rude awakening."

John glanced at his watch as he jogged back to the truck. It was just past lunch and he'd bet that Rodney was taking it at his desk, as usual. He didn't think Rodney had any luncheons to attend.

When he walked into Rodney's offices, his face must have given him away because Colette stopped herself in mid greeting. "Yo, Mr. McKay, what--" She blinked.

"Is he in, Colette?"

"Yeah, he's on the phone. What the hell happened?"

John sighed. "Mommy Dearest happened. I've got to drag him over to Phelps to sign a few forms. Is he going to be able to?"

She called up his schedule. "Not right away, but at... two, he could make it at two."

"Pencil it in," John said, slumping in one of the hard chairs in the anteroom. "God." He scrubbed his face with his hands, then gave her a weak glare. "And don't call me Mr. McKay."

She snorted. "It's either that or call him Dr. Sheppard." Colette turned back to her work, hitting the keys on her keyboard a little too hard. "That woman could be a poster child for abortion," he heard her mutter under her breath. Ordinarily, he would have laughed, but not this time. "He's done," she added with a glance at the phone. "Go on in."

Rodney looked frazzled and buried, as usual, and John had a pang of guilt for adding more stress. "Hey."

"Hey?" Rodney blinked up at him. "What's wrong?"

Yeah, his irritation must be pretty clear. "It's time to move to a restraining order," he said, handing Rodney the forms he needed to fill out. "She tried to get Madison at school."

He could almost see Rodney's blood pressure rise. "That goddamned bitch, that..."

"Deep breath. We're not going to sink to her level, right?" He perched on the only clear corner of Rodney's obscenely large desk. "And even though we might think it's justifiable, it's not." Rodney closed his eyes at John's words and John sighed. "We need to talk, tonight," he added, quietly. "You need to tell me and I need to know."

Rodney took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it. "Yeah. Not that I want to, or anything."

John nodded. "Colette says you could get over there at two -- Mrs. Garson thought it would be a good idea for you to be there in person, to make sure everything was above-board."

"Okay." Rodney opened his eyes and the look he gave John made John want to hug him and kick that bitch of a mother across Canada. "I'll take care of it. You signed your side?"

"Yeah. We're fine, Rodney. She's not going to win. And I'm going to stop at the police station and file a formal restraining order. I know, it's not going to work, but it gives us leverage and we need every bit of it possible." And John hadn't told Rodney about the car or his fear of bugs, and maybe he should, that evening, while they were already ripping each other apart.

* * *

John made sure to be at school well before the final bell to pick up Madison. Instead of waiting for her in the truck as usual, John parked, got out and walked to the main door. A quick check with the office confirmed that Rodney had indeed stopped by to formally file the paperwork.

Then Madison was running to him, her little backpack slung over one shoulder. "Unca John!" 

He grabbed her backpack as he crouched, giving her a big hug. "Hey, buddy! Did you have a good day at school?" He asked, standing and taking her hand. 

Madison nattered on about school and her friends and her trials and John listened with half an ear -- the big, black car was in the parking lot, way down at the end. He tried not to let it bother him but it was pretty much too late for that.

Halfway home, happy the car wasn't tailing them, he realized Madison had fallen silent. He glanced over at her, worried that she'd zoned out. It didn't appear so, because she was focused on something out the window. "That's a pretty big thinking face you've got on," he said gently. "Care to share?"

She shrugged, confirming she was still with him in the truck, watching something out the passenger window. "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

Finally turning to him, she said, "Unca John? If you 'dopt me, does that mean you're my dad?"

Oh boy. That was out of left field. "What made you ask that question, Beav?" he said, hedging.

"My friend Sasha is 'dopted. She was born in Russia and 'dopted and she calls the people who 'dopted her mom and dad, but they're not really, not like she came out of her mom's ut-- uterus." And boy could he hear Rodney's voice explaining what a uterus was and how it functioned.

"Well," he said, trying to think everything through before he said it, "that's a bit different. She was adopted when she was a baby by people who wanted to be her mom and dad. But with you, you aren't a baby, number one, and number two, your parents didn't give you up for adoption, which is probably what Sasha's real mother did."

"But how's that different? Don't you want to be my dad?"

This was so not a conversation he wanted to have while fighting traffic in the truck. "Beav, I love you so very much and yeah, I guess you could call our relationship a... familial one... do you know that word?"

She bit her lip. "It's got family in it, so I think that what it is, right?"

"Yeah, close enough." She still needed work in English. "But you know, I'm never going to be able to replace your dad and I wouldn't want to try. Your dad was... well, he was your dad. What happened wasn't fair, but I hope that I'm doing a good enough job substituting that he's not mad at me, wherever he is."

"You mean in heaven." Her voice was flat and he blinked.

"Well, yeah, I assume that..."

"I don't believe in heaven."

Well. It was the first he'd heard this. He wondered if it was going to be a problem and decided they'd better start going to church a little more often. Rodney said the Unitarian church had a good religious education program... maybe that would help. "Why don't you believe in heaven?"

"Because I don't believe in God."

Okay, this had passed through strange and well into weird. Luckily, they were just about to turn into their neighborhood. "You sure about that, Beav?"

"Yeah." She set her chin and it was Rodney in miniature. "Benj Cohen is the smartest kid I know, he's smarter than me, but he can't walk and can't even talk right because he's got a disease and he's gonna _die_ soon and that's not right and that's not fair. And mommy and daddy died and... and..."

John pulled into the driveway and shut off the truck. He snapped open both her seatbelt and his own and tugged on her arm, brought her across the seat to his side. "No, Maddie, that's not fair." He kept his voice low and soothing and she buried her face in his neck. It felt like she was going to shake herself apart. "But you know what? _Life_ isn't fair. You've just got to do what you can with what you have."

"But God is supposed to be _good_!" Her voice was muffled and John felt her tears wet his t-shirt. "How can he be good if he takes away people who should be here? How can he be good when kids like Benj are all twisted up and hurt all the time?"

"I don't know, Buddy," John whispered, hugging her tightly. "I don't know." A sudden thought came to him. "But I do know who to talk to about it."

"Who?"

"Teyla. She's the most spiritual person I know. I think she'd be able to help you." Hesitant to say more, since he hadn't talked with Rodney about it, he gritted his teeth and continued. "And we're going to be asking them to visit for Christmas. Would you like that?"

Maddie nodded but didn't say anything. After another few minutes, he gently encouraged her to pull back far enough that he could see her tear-streaked face. Each car had a supply of tissues -- born of experience -- and he grabbed a wad to wipe her face. "Here. Blow your nose and let's go in. I think a day like this calls for some homemade cookies."

She smiled crookedly but blew her nose into the tissues. "Choco-chip?"

"If that's what you want. I think we've even got all the ingredients. C'mon, Beav, let's all get fat." 

That made her giggle and John quietly sighed in relief. So, that was something else to talk about when Rodney got home. Sheesh, could life get any more complicated?

Even as he said that, he saw that damn car turn down their street. He resolutely ignored it.

* * *

Rodney was happy for the cookies when he finally got home from his weekly meeting with the Chancellor. Those ran so late that Rodney had already eaten (lightly, he said his stomach wouldn't handle both food and the Chancellor at the same time) and so he was pretty much in time to look over Madison's homework and tuck her into bed. John didn't want to bring up the subjects they needed to talk about until Rodney was unwound sufficiently to not go berserk.

So, he started with the whole God thing.

"She said that? Jesus."

"So to speak, yes." They were on the couch, the TV turned on to something that was like a Canadian version of C-Span government thing, not quite muted. "The books say some kids, especially very smart or traumatized kids, go through this phase. But I wonder if we shouldn't be going to church."

"Well, that Unitarian congregation is a good place to go, if we need to." Rodney's head fell back on the couch with a thump. 

"I, uh, also said she should talk to Teyla," John admitted. He started picking the label off his beer bottle. "And... uh... how would you feel about them here, you know, for Christmas?"

Rodney was quiet for so long John risked a glance at his face and found the 'well, duh' expression on. "Of course it's okay. Christ. Quit tiptoeing."

"I'm not!" John immediately said. "Well, okay. Maybe a little."

Rodney snorted and closed his eyes.

John let the comfortable silence stretch for a while before speaking again. "I know you don't want to talk about it, and I don't blame you, God no, I don't, but..."

"Yeah. I know." Rodney's voice was soft and he kept his eyes closed as he spoke. "I probably need to get it out, you know, like you lance a boil."

John scooted over a fraction, let his leg rest against Rodney's, but didn't say anything. With a last pull of his beer, Rodney began to talk.

"Branwen Maddox comes from old money in Ontario and Quebec, big family. But she wasn't an older kid, wasn't in the direct 'line of succession,' if you know what I mean. She married my dad, Scott Meredith McKay, I think because she saw him as a way to get more money and to have the prestige of having genius children, which was something none of her relatives had."

"Wait," John said. "What's with the Meredith?"

Rodney waggled his head. "I'll get to that. Dad was a genius, so Jeannie and I came by it honestly and were half of what she wanted. But like us, he was more into theoretical knowledge, stuff normally without real world application. Branwen knew he was smart and I think she assumed his genius would end up in money and when it didn't..." he sighed. "I think Dad really loved her. Why, I'm not sure, but I really think he did. Jeannie -- she's four and a half years younger than me -- came along right about the time Branwen realized she wasn't going to get the money she wanted or the children she could control and exploit as geniuses and everything went downhill from there."

Rodney's eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling. "I remember their fights, the screaming matches. They would wake Jeannie up and I ended up having to soothe her back to sleep... I ended up sleeping with her in her little bed more often than not. It was the only place we felt safe." Rodney sighed again. "Safe. Safe is where the Meredith thing came from. He was Dad's great-grandfather, so our great-great, I guess, Meredith McKay, who was some rebel in Scotland or something -- it's become tradition in our family to use the name as first or middle. My name was supposed to be Rodney Meredith McKay, but she was so pissed that Dad insisted on the Meredith part she changed the order. I don't know what she was thinking, maybe to get at him by embarrassing me or something stupid like that. Dad explained it once, when I came home with another black eye and split lip from fighting the bigger boys over my name. That's when I decided I'd never use it, but never change it, either." Rodney finished off his beer and put his head back.

"When Jeannie was three and I was eight, Branwen was left a huge chunk of money by means of a cousin or an aunt dying and leaving her more than she'd ever expected. Overnight, we were far richer than we had been. She bought a huge house just outside Toronto and furnished it with all new stuff, things we weren't to touch, ever. Even in our rooms. Things were expensive and could break so don't play with them. She'd also bought a piano and made sure that both Jeannie and I had lessons from 'a friend of the family' who was really just gouging her for money. I learned more about music in math class than I did with that idiot. When she found out he wasn't really teaching me, she dismissed him, and he told her I'd never be able to play at concert level because I wasn't..." Rodney seemed to be looking for words or maybe trying to keep from crying -- John just pressed against him tighter. "He said I couldn't _feel_ the music. I wasn't _passionate_ enough. I think the words he used were 'trained, waltzing hippo.'" He took a shuddering breath.

"So that was my second brush with panic: the first was worrying about messing up the things in the house, touching them, breaking them. I... okay, I developed a problem with bedwetting, but it didn't last long because she made me sleep in the basement on an old mattress until I stopped. Dad or Jeannie or both would come down and spend the night with me, trying to make me feel better, not alone."

Jesus Christ. This was far worse than John had ever imagined. And he was certain that Rodney wasn't making it up or even embellishing -- in fact, John would bet that he was leaving stuff out.

"Dad was our companion, our real parent, the only shield we had against her. With him, we did experiments, we learned, it all came so naturally to us. Dad took a thought experiment I'd set out on paper to the chair of physics at UT and on the basis of that, I was accepted into the accelerated courses, both in university and at public school. I was fourteen. I was accepted into MIT at seventeen and got my first Masters at twenty." 

He swallowed hard. "Dad was already gone. He died two weeks before my graduation -- cancer, which I doubt he tried hard to cure. And that meant that no one from my family was there to see me graduate. Jeannie was fifteen and still under that woman's thumb. I went directly into the Ph.D. program and tried to sneak Jeannie out whenever I could." He snorted. "She finally found her own way out, by claiming to be pregnant by Kaleb Miller, who was willing to play along once he met our mother. She was nineteen. As we'd expected, Branwen threw Jeannie out of the house and into marriage with Kaleb Miller, who I hated at first -- I mean, this was my baby sister here -- but he was a good man, John. He was a very good man. And he loved her, so very much. Her and Madison."

Rodney's voice was thick and John could tell he was near tears. It had been less than a year since Jeannie's and Kaleb's death, two people John had never met but could honestly say he admired, just from being with their daughter. John pressed one arm under Rodney's neck and with the other, pulled on his arm. "C'mere," he said, tugging Rodney to his shoulder.

They sat in the darkness of their living room, while on the TV, men yelled at each other in voices barely heard.

* * *

John felt almost affronted that they'd completely forgotten about the Canadian Thanksgiving, so much that he decided they'd celebrate it at the end of November, though not necessarily at the same time as the U.S. one. He'd never cooked a turkey before but he got cookbooks and read all the recipes and the wrapper on the frozen bird he got so how hard could it be? Well, he found out how hard when the turkey didn't thaw in the fridge like it was supposed to and when it finally did and he put it in the oven, he forgot the giblet sack. He got the neck, but forgot the rest.

It wasn't a complete disaster and it did teach him some good lessons (like next time, read _Joy of Cooking_ and forget the instructions on the bird's wrapper) which he figured he'd put to good use at Christmas. They wouldn't have a horde, but they'd have enough guests -- Teyla, Ronon, Elizabeth, Mitchell, Teal'c and Jackson all said they'd come. Carson was going to be in Scotland with his 'mum who was ailing.' Carter was spending it in California with her family, Vala Mal Doran wasn't going to be around and Radek would still be on his honeymoon. John had to hand it to the guy, wrangling an entire month off for a honeymoon was pretty sweet.

Rodney told him he must be channeling his inner-June Cleaver, but whatever it was, it was definitely fun. John and Madison experimented with cookies and desserts and even some side dishes and poor Rodney was obliged to eat what they put out -- under great duress, he frequently reminded them, around a mouthful of whatever new thing he was eating. The food didn't always look like it was supposed to, but John took heart in the fact that it always tasted good.

The cooking orgy culminated in John's attempt (with Madison's enthusiastic help) to create a _buche de Noel_ or 'Yule log' -- a dessert that looked pretty much like heart attack on a plate but which set all three of them salivating. Two days, four dishtowels, three cookbooks and one ruined jelly-roll pan later, they had their _buche_. It was in five pieces since the cake part had split, but it was definitely delicious and totally not worth doing again, not for at least a million years.

The car story continued as well. John told Rodney about it and they kept their eyes on it, until old man Giddrick called the police because whoever was in it kept smoking and littering butts all over the road. The car was gone for a whole ten days because of that and it took John another three to stop making jokes about the 'Cigarette Smoking Man' from _X-Files._

In between adventures in cooking, John was doing Christmas shopping and running things down on the List Of Things We Must Do Before We Move To Atlantis. They had finally worked out what furniture to take, what books, what toys (both for grown-ups as well as kids and John was _not_ going to give up his new X-Box) but it seemed like they'd just scratch off one thing and  ten more would pop up. 

Carson gave them a hand by contacting Madison's pediatrician personally and getting her records mailed to him (and to Kate Heightmeyer) directly. Elizabeth helped by contacting Phelps and working out a curriculum for Madison where she would be the primary tutor. Both John and Rodney were beyond grateful for that, but Elizabeth told them it would be her honor to teach Madison in every subject save math, music and physics. Rodney figured he would keep working with Madison on music and physics, and there were any number of volunteers who would work with her on the multi-level math she'd need.

And members of SG-1 kept popping in -- literally -- at odd hours. Sam and Madison worked on various projects together and Daniel kept asking about Christmas presents and even Teal'c got into the act, dropping off a medium-sized bag of wrapped presents and getting John's recipe for chicken-rice casserole. One Saturday after ballet, Sam beamed down. She asked to borrow the car or truck and she and Madison -- wearing twin, mysterious grins -- drove off. Before they left, Sam was careful to double-check cell phone numbers and to tell them she'd be gone with Madison until at least nine. Or later, depending on how long the mall was open.

"You're going to a _mall_?" John said, aghast. "Less than two weeks before _Christmas_?"

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, Unca John," Madison said with great dignity.

"It really is a girl thing," Sam added, not even trying to keep her grin hidden. "Just don't forget, we'll be _late_. Very late." As she followed Madison out the front door, she added, "You can thank me later."

John was slower on the uptake than Rodney on that one. While he was still trying to figure out why _anyone_ , male or female, would want to put themselves through such torture, Rodney grabbed his arm, tugged him into the bedroom and had him stripped and was sucking his brains out his dick before John even registered it was happening. They spent the rest of the day in bed, racking up an impressive number of orgasms, and John decided Sam had earned an expensive and heartfelt Christmas present.

As long as he could buy it online and avoid the mall, anyway.

* * *

When John had been a boy, it seemed that the month leading up to Christmas took forever. As an adult, the holiday itself had barely registered. Now, as de facto parent, time zoomed by at lightspeed. They were hoping to move to Atlantis by January tenth but at the rate they were going, John figured it would be January of the following year before they were ready. 

At least they didn't have to carry anything. They'd already had several crates of things transported either to the Daedalus for shipment or to the Mountain to be 'gated to Atlantis; it seemed there was more every day. Elizabeth said she'd found what she thought was a good place for the three of them to live, but would wait for their final approval. There was so much stuff going back and forth to Atlantis it was staggering. John had only been gone a bit over three months but it seemed in that time, the number of personnel there had doubled. He'd also been replaced, officially, by Steven Caldwell. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

He was afraid that the SGC was treating Atlantis as a possible 'last resort' if they couldn't defeat the Ori. Jackson and Mitchell were working on finding the weapon, but hadn't had any success, yet. It was only a matter of time before the Ori managed to find another way to get into the Milky Way. He hoped his little family would be gone and safe by then.

Among other things, Rodney had taken all the Christmas decorations from Jeannie's house. Madison had helped John find new places for the old and familiar things, including her Christmas stocking. This would be Madison's first Christmas without her mother and father and John and Rodney were braced for the worst.

A week and a half before Christmas, they picked out a tree. It _had_ to be real, Rodney and Madison insisted, because that was the only proper way to celebrate Christmas. The small house Rodney lived in had a low ceiling so tall trees were out, but a wide one wouldn't be good either. The piano took up a lot of space that a tree would need.

John remembered them shooting an idea down, but just for the hell of it, he called Mitchell. "Is the Daedalus still in orbit?" 

"Yeah, she's due to leave day after tomorrow for Atlantis, why? You got more stuff to beam up?"

"Uh..." John thought hard on how to broach it. "I was wondering..."

"Spit it out, Shep, I've got a mission in the morning," Mitchell laughed.

"Okay, fine, whose ass do I have to kiss to get the piano transported up?"

"Ooo... Good one. A piano, huh?" 

"Yeah. Would there even be room?"

"Huh. I don't know. Lemme see if I can call in a few favors."

It was possible, it was transported up to the Daedalus, and Delaney, the Daedalus' new CO, barely squawked. Since Caldwell had become head of military in Atlantis, getting 'frivolous' work done became far easier. Not that Delaney was a lightweight, but John hadn't had much of a chance to speak with her, or with Caldwell, for that matter. He intended to rectify that soon. He hoped.

In private, after Madison was asleep, John and Rodney had been working on what to tell Madison about Santa Claus or even _if_ to tell her. Sam reported to John that Madison hadn't seemed in the least bit interested in the mall's Santa. Sam also gave them a list of potential Christmas gifts which made it easier for them to buy Maddie stuff. That helped, but their biggest worry was her state of mind. One of the best things about paying all that tuition to Phelps was the cadre of psychologists who came along with the teachers. John and Rodney found psychologists to be mildly creepy, but they were willing to take all the help they could get where Madison was concerned.

The buying frenzy continued. After the tree went up, John started ferrying wrapped presents up from the basement where they'd been hidden. The space under the short, squat but amazingly symmetrical tree quickly filled up.

John stood with Rodney, looking at the heap of loot. "Um... did we go overboard, you think?"

Rodney wouldn't meet his eyes. "Mm... maybe."

"Some of those aren't from us," John offered, but he knew it, they'd gone overboard. How many of those presents were going to go with them to Atlantis?

Since the tree had gone up, Madison's preoccupation with Christmas suddenly seemed to dwindle. She noted the presents under the tree but John didn't catch her shaking anything. Sam did pop in a day later with a bag of gifts that looked to be from Madison to John and Rodney, but instead of carefully arranging them under the tree (something John remembered doing from his childhood) she just dumped them.

It was C minus six days and counting when John went into Madison's room to get her ready for school. Rodney was already at work even though the university was 'closed' for the holidays -- he'd finally found a replacement for himself and was feverishly setting things up for the transition. School for Madison would be out in another couple of days as well. She was sitting on the bed, petting Beelz who was looking entirely too satisfied with herself. "Beav?" He leaned against the door to her room. "You okay?"

She shrugged and kept petting Beelz, who smirked at John. "We need to get going here, buddy. You ready?"

She still didn't move, so John shoved Beelz over and sat on the bed with Madison. "What's up?"

"When we move to 'Lantis, can Beelz come too?"

John blinked. There was another thing neither had covered. "Boy am I glad you brought that up, Beav, because we might have forgotten all about her majesty." He shrugged. "I think so. Elizabeth has her dog with her, now, so why not?" But that wasn't it. "That's not what you're thinking about, is it?"

She shook her head but wouldn't lift it to meet John's gaze. John put one arm around her and she leaned into his chest. "Want to talk about it?" She shrugged again. "Would it help to talk to Sam instead of me?"

Madison sighed. "No," she said in a tiny voice. After a minute, she continued, her voice muffled by John's t-shirt. "Some of the kids at school were talking about Santa Claus. I told them I didn't believe in him, that he was just a... _p'lite fik-shun_ people used to hide stuff."

John loved Rodney with all his heart but that wouldn't prevent him from throttling the little bastard. "A polite fiction, huh?" He hoped he hadn't said that with the resignation he felt.

She nodded but didn't say anything else. 

Jesus, he hated this part of parenting. Rodney might be honest with Madison, but honesty wasn't exactly what little kids need to hear, at times. John didn't want to lie to Madison, but he didn't want to diminish her feelings, either. "Does this maybe have anything to do with our discussion about God a couple of weeks back?"

"I guess. Maybe."

"Well, when you think about it, God and Santa Claus are a lot alike," John said, not quite fumbling for words. "I mean, miracle city, right? And they both have the faith thing going. But there's more to Santa than just toys and stuff. You know that, right?"

"Huh?"

Well, that got her attention, at least, now John had to hold it. "Rodney would say it's commercialized and all, and it is, but Christmas is more than religion and more than just buying out half a Toys R Us. It's... it's helping people. People who are worse off than we are, people who are cold, or hungry, or very sad."

She was quiet for a few minutes, before speaking in a tinier voice. "I'm very sad."

"I know. I can tell." He tightened his embrace. "Can you tell me why you're so sad?" The psychologist Madison saw (rarely) at Phelps had suggested coming out and asking her to articulate thoughts. John was a bit leery, but thought it was worth a try.

She stiffened slightly, but shook her head no. "Not even a guess, then?" he added, keeping his voice as soft as he could make it. 

"I don't..." She was trembling and John scooted back and lifted her to his lap, trying to surround her with love. "I... I don't... I don't remember, Unca John. I don't remember."

John just kept rocking her gently. "What don't you remember, Beav?"

Madison's voice was clotted with tears and thick with pain. "A bunch of us, we were sitting around at school, and talking about last Christmas, and what we got, and I don't remember. I don't remember Daddy putting the star on the tree, I don't remember Mommy putting those gingerbread men on the tree, I know she smelled good but I can't remember, and I can't _remember_ and if you... don't... if you can't remember... they're really..." She was shaking harder, her little hands gripping his t-shirt. "I don't remember! I wanna remember, Unca John, I need to remember and I can't, and... and... I... I want my... my Mommy... Mommy..." 

She was crying harder, great, wrenching, wracking sobs that threatened to tear her little body apart. John held on, made her as safe as he could within his arms, whispering to her, "Let it out, baby, it hurts worse if it stays inside. Let it out, Maddie, Beav, baby, let it out." He longed to be able to fix it, to be able to wave a magic wand and make the pain go away, mend the broken places inside her. He rocked her gently, held her tightly, while his own tears dripped, unchecked, down his face.

* * *

Madison fell asleep, finally, worn out by the storm. John put her carefully down on her bed and used his t-shirt to wipe her face and nose gently. He made sure she was out before getting into a clean t-shirt and picking up the phone.

"Colette? It's John."

"Hey, Mr. Mckay." He knew she was alone -- she was only a smartass when she was alone.

Normally, he'd have something smart to say back to her, but he was too exhausted. "I need you to rearrange Rodney's schedule so he can come home as soon as possible."

"Oh... Maddie?"

"Yeah." John scrubbed his face with one hand and was surprised to find his cheeks wet. "We've been kind of waiting for this, and it's a bad one. I need him here. Then, lady who knows everything, I need some place where the three of us can donate time, you know, like a... a soup kitchen... do they even exist in Toronto? Not with kids, she's around disabled kids all day at school. Someplace else..."

"What, like volunteer? Homeless or something?"

"Yeah, just some place where Maddie can help too."

"Um... okay, I can rearrange his schedule, the campus is almost a ghost town as it is. As for the other, uh... Oh! Sherry's mom. Let me call her while you talk to Doc."

He heard Colette call out and then Rodney picked up the phone. "What? What's going on?"

John sighed. "She fell apart, that's what's going on. You know that big one we've been waiting for? It's here."

"Oh, God. I'll be right home."

"Wait... I've asked Colette to find us some place where we could volunteer, where Maddie could help. But before we do that, we're going to the cemetery to visit."

"Okay, okay, I'm on my way home now. Wait, Colette says... Never mind, I'll be home as soon as I can."

School was next, though John didn't sweat it. Phelps was such a specialized place that kids could miss days -- whole weeks, on occasion, which happened with the sicker kids -- without penalty. When he explained the situation, the admissions lady asked if they needed to see Madison's psychologist. He told her maybe, but it would most likely be tomorrow.

Madison was still asleep, but it was a restless one. John gently scooped her up and carried her to the living room, sitting on the sofa with her in his arms. She'd settled down, at least, and that's how Rodney found them when he came in half an hour later, out of breath, leaving his coat and briefcase in a heap on the floor. "How is she?"

John held his finger to his lips. Rodney sat down next to them, put his hand on Madison's head.

"She finally passed out about half an hour ago," John said, as softly as he could. "It was bad."

Rodney swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He scooted as close to John as he could, so that Madison was almost leaning on him. 

"She said she couldn't remember them," John whispered, hardly trusting his voice. "Couldn't remember last Christmas or how her mother smelled or any of it." 

With a barely audible moan, Rodney put his head on John's shoulder. 

"I thought a visit to their graves... maybe a look through the albums might help too. And I asked Colette for places the three of us could visit, spread a little holiday cheer, no kids, though."

"She gave me an address and a person to talk to," Rodney murmured. "A nursing home. This afternoon. That's a good idea."

"Cemetery first." 

They kept together, the three of them, huddled together, supporting each other. When Madison finally woke up, she did so in stages -- first twitching, then leaning back against Rodney, then finally opening her eyes which were still gummy from crying herself to sleep. "Unca Mer?" she slurred.

Rodney took a wad of tissues from John and mopped her face. "Hi, Three-M. How're you feeling?"

She took a little hitching breath. "Not so good."

"Maybe we should find a way to make you feel better?"

She leaned her head back against Rodney while crunching herself tighter into a ball on John's lap. "I dunno," she whispered.

Rodney looked up at John briefly before speaking again. "Do you remember when we went to see Dr. Johnson at Phelps? He talked about the process of grief. Remember?"

She nodded. John's left hand was over her legs; she picked it up and started playing with the ring he wore.

"He said that everybody goes through it differently, that some days were going to be really bad but others would be pretty much okay." Rodney sighed. "I think we can chalk this one up as really, really bad, can't we?"

"Yeah," she whispered, not looking up.

"I think I know what might help," John said. "Go to the cemetery and put some flowers there, for them. What do you think?"

She was silent for a long time and both John and Rodney let her be, didn't hurry her. That was the other thing Johnson had recommended, along with the articulation of what was wrong. Finally they were rewarded with a very tiny, "Okay."

"And afterwards?" Rodney said, glancing at John, "Colette said there's a place that needs the help of someone just like you. A nursing home, with old people who don't have any children or grandchildren. Do you think you could spread a little cheer there?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," John added, though he hoped she'd say yes.

"Okay," she said and all three of them sighed.

* * *

They ended up putting an evergreen wreath at the sepulcher. Madison picked it out and put it so it leaned against the wall, under the niches where her parents' ashes were. Then she sat down on the grass in front of it and just stayed still, obviously lost in her thoughts. The air was even colder and the thick cloud cover made John think they were in for some snow -- it was about time. He was beginning to think Rodney's stories of being snowed in for four straight months a year were hyperbole.

She was calmer but not much happier when they left for the nursing home. The name Colette had given them turned out to be the head nurse, who led them to a sunny room where several elderly residents were sitting in wheelchairs in front of a TV none of them were watching. Initially shy, Madison found herself the center of attention and ended up trying to explain _Spongebob Squarepants_ to a woman who seemed to want to devour Madison with her eyes. She told all three of them that her only child had died in Viet Nam and all she'd ever wanted was a granddaughter, something she would never have.

"I don't really gots a gramma," Madison said to her. "I could be your granddaughter, if you want."

The three of them spent most of the afternoon with Mrs. Delacroix. John asked the duty nurse about her and was told she had a progressive neurological disease and would probably be dead before the spring. With a sigh, John filed that information away to talk about later.

The whole Christmas thing had turned into such a downer. 

When they finally left the nursing home, there were a few snowflakes lazily falling and John smiled. By the time they got home, the snow was falling in earnest and there was a thin layer of it over everything. Madison got out of the Prius and stood in the driveway, her face turned up to the sky, her eyes closed and her mouth open. John noted that damn car was back but decided to just ignore it.

"Mommy loved snow," Madison said softly, catching flakes on her tongue.

"That's right," Rodney said, standing behind Madison with his hands on her shoulders. "I never understood that; it's cold and wet and nasty, but she loved it."

"Aw, come on, Rodney," John protested with a grin. "It's pretty."

"Until you have to shovel it," he snapped back, but he was smiling as he turned to Madison. "I remember last year coming to visit you and you were building a huge snow fort out in the front yard. Do you remember, Three-M?"

"Yeah. And Mommy snuck up behind you and dumped a snowball down your neck!" Madison laughed outright.

"That's right, and you helped her, you dirty rat!" Rodney pulled her hood back off her head. "Maybe I should return the favor?"

"No!" Madison shrieked, turning and running away from Rodney to crash into John. "You won't let him get me, will you, Unca John?" she pleaded, her face red from cold and her eyes happy.

"Let him? Naw, I'll shove it down your coat myself!" 

It turned into a ridiculous free-for-all, them chasing each other on the front lawn and tackling whomever came nearest. The snow was barely enough to scoop up, but they did, plastering each other with what little they could get. 

Finally, exhausted, cold and damp, they just fell over on the front lawn. "We need to get in before we catch pneumonia," Rodney said, panting.

"Oh, you're such a spoilsport, Rodney," John drawled, but he was the first to get to his feet. "What do you say we move pizza night to tonight, because the cook is tired."

"Pizza!" Madison crowed, throwing herself into John's arms. 

He picked her up and swung her around then plopped her on the stoop so they were almost eye to eye. "See, Beav? You _do_ remember. That's all anybody needs, you know, just to remember them."

Madison regarded him seriously for a minute before nodding. Her smile was a bit sadder, but she still threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I love you, Unca John," she whispered.

"I love you too, baby," he whispered back, his voice almost cracking.

Rodney was brushing snow off his coat. "You're both lunatics, but I love you anyway," he said before throwing his arms wide and hugging them both. "Now, let's get inside before all this snow makes me ill."

* * *

By the time Christmas rolled around, six days later, twelve inches of snow had fallen. Not all at once, thank goodness, but it was still a lot and there was more predicted. They spent time every day with Mrs. Delacroix and promised to visit her the day after Christmas, too.

Luckily for them, their guests for dinner didn't have to drive or even fly to get there, they just transported in, two or three at a time. The good side about the snow was that it seemed to have banished the mystery car from their cul-de-sac. Rodney decided to just not go into work so he could stay home and work on getting the house and themselves ready to emigrate. John was surprised to learn that he'd already taken Beelz into account and had permission to bring her with them to Atlantis. Madison stayed home too, there was no sense in sending her to school for another day and a half.

The lists were finally growing shorter so John actually held out hope they'd be ready for the move on the tenth.

Christmas dawned with a lowering sky and more snow predicted. They kept it low-key. Madison was still depressed and neither John nor Rodney wanted to make it worse for her. They settled on opening a few presents at a time, watching Christmas specials on TV, and eating cinnamon rolls in between getting Christmas dinner ready. Sam's present to Madison was the hands-down winner -- a 'real' tiara of actual metal, with real rhinestones. Madison put it on and there it stayed, even after she got dressed. The presents from others in the SG-1 team they set aside to open when they arrived at noon or so.

John and Rodney didn't give each other a lot of presents -- they had pretty much everything they wanted and knew they'd be moving to Atlantis soon, so why get more stuff? There were a few things, however. One of John's presents to Rodney was a t-shirt that said 'PROPERTY OF JOHN SHEPPARD' and Rodney fell over laughing when he saw it. Rodney gave John a few games for his Xbox (which had already been shipped) -- football and skateboarding, showing that yes, he did indeed understand his spouse. To a point.

One of the things Rodney had done in his time off was to de-clutter the small dining room and excavate the dining room table out from under piles of things. Much of what was taken off the table was put into storage bins for later transport to Atlantis, but more of it was thrown away. The garbage men must have been puzzled by so much trash _before_ Christmas, but at least there was a place for everyone to sit for dinner.

Teyla was entranced by the decorations and the snow. "I have only seen snow a handful of times," she said, looking out the window. "And never like this. Is this normal?"

"It's _light_ ," Rodney said with a grimace. "Do you all believe me about Canada now?"

Even though they were hardly dressed for it, Ronon and Teyla wanted to go outside. John found them coats -- well, he found Teyla a coat, Ronon was in his big leather jacket and no coat in John's closet would have fit him -- and Madison showed them the fort she'd built with John earlier in the week and the snowman she'd made. When Mitchell, Jackson and Teal'c arrived, they went outside too and before John could blink, there was a vicious, all-out snowball war going on, SGA vs. SG-1. He watched from the front window, Elizabeth and Rodney standing beside him, all three of them in shock and laughing. The weirdest part was that team SGA was _winning_ , even though SG-1 had better manpower. Apparently, their winning strategy was Madison making snowballs as fast as she could so Ronon could throw them, rapid-fire from both hands, and Teyla sneaking up behind SG-1 to pelt them from the rear.

"I think we've discovered the combined age of the highest ranking officers in the SGC," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. 

"Yeah, and it's smaller than Ronon's shoe size," Rodney said and they all chuckled.

"Better get lots of towels," Elizabeth said to John. "And maybe an old sheet or something for the doorway."

"Oh, yeah," John said, turning. "Wait... how did you...?"

Elizabeth blushed slightly. "I had my share of snowball fights when I was a kid," she said. 

When the warriors -- SGA team victorious by means of cheating, or so the SG-1 team alleged -- returned to the house, they were drenched, ice cold, red and extremely happy. John and Rodney had towels and some clothing ready for them. Everyone except Ronon ended up in old sweats (of various sizes) while their clothing dried in the bathroom. Ronon just sat on the floor, on a big towel, waiting for his pants to dry. 

The turkey was out of the oven and resting, the other dishes were either on the stove or in the oven, and the whole house smelled fabulous, even if John thought so himself. They had cookies, cake and pie for dessert and wine -- some of it Athosian -- cooling. It was going to be a feast to remember and John had made most of it. He wasn't quite sure if he was pleased or a little freaked by that thought.

There were presents to be opened, the bulk of them Madison's but everyone had at least one. Apparently, during her shopping trip, Madison and Sam had bought presents for everyone Madison knew well. The present she got for John and Rodney also showed collusion with Colette, because it was a picture from their wedding, the two of them kissing with a happy Madison next to and looking up at them. It was an eight-by-ten and the frame had words written all the way around it: "And, in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

"Oh, my God," Rodney breathed in a voice suspiciously thick. John just knew he was going to go all sentimental, he had that feeling.

"C'mere, Beav," John said, pulling Madison into a three way hug. "We need to get our picture taken, I think," he added. "The three of us, in a formal family portrait." 

"Yeah," Rodney said, kissing Madison on the temple. "Thank you, Maddie."

She smiled and ducked her head, but returned their hug. "I love you, Unca Mer," she whispered.

There was one huge present from Mitchell and Jackson and when Madison opened it, both John and Rodney groaned even as she squealed. "A 'Barbie Dream House'?"

Mitchell tried to look innocent but Jackson ratted him out. "His idea," he said, pointing at Mitchell. "I was all for the biography of Einstein, but no, he had to buy that pink... thing."

Madison, of course, was overjoyed and spent the next twenty minutes getting it out of the wrapping and assembling it. John just wanted to beat the crap out of Mitchell, who was really far to smug for his own good.

Teal'c's present to the three of them was far more appropriate -- an exact scale model of a 302 fighter, remote controlled, with honest-to-God afterburners. Sort of. Thank heavens it distracted Madison from the stupid pink thing, at least until she realized they couldn't take it outside and try it out. The snow the sky had promised was falling, fresh and clean, and had already filled up the divots from the snowball fight.

John had time before they ate to ask Teyla to talk to Madison, explaining the conversations he'd had with her. "She's been a wreck this past week," he said. Teyla and Elizabeth were standing with him in the kitchen. "Her mood has been up and down constantly. Night terrors almost every single night, too." He'd already explained what those were.

"You have explained about the Wraith?" Teyla asked.

"Rodney did. Caught holy hell for it from Jeannie, too." John shook his head. "He doesn't think, sometimes."

Elizabeth snorted and rolled her eyes.

"I will be happy to speak with her, John," Teyla said. "Perhaps the influence of a woman might help mitigate her sadness."

"She adores Carter -- Sam," John said, sighing. "She was so disappointed when she couldn't make it."

Elizabeth shared a look with Teyla, then nodded. "We'll talk to her," she promised. "Now, what can I do to help before the hordes descend?"

It was a feast of epic proportions, or something like that. John kept bringing out food and it kept disappearing. "Hey, June," Mitchell yelled at one point, over his shoulder to John, who was in the kitchen, "any more stuffing in there?"

John brought the dish out and put it on the table in front of Mitchell. "Just keep digging your hole, Mitchell," he said. He was pretty sure menacing didn't come across, dammit. "Revenge is sweeter than the yams you're eating."

Madison sat on a booster seat next to Rodney at one end of the table, with Ronon on her other side. John sat at the other end, on one of the plastic chairs from the deck, since they'd had to scrounge enough chairs for nine. Nobody seemed to mind, though. Talk was sparse as mouths were busy chewing. John figured that was a better compliment than any verbal praise.

There was surprisingly little leftover. No turkey at all and it had been a _huge_ bird, the largest he could find. Mitchell inhaled the steamed yams, Ronon gobbled the mashed potatoes and Teyla went to town on the salad. Everyone was groaning as they pushed back from the table.

"That was one fine feed," Mitchell said, patting his stomach and trying to hide the fact that he was opening the clasp on his belt.

"Yes, it was," Elizabeth said with a smile. She lifted her glass of wine and said, "To the cook!"

John was pleased and didn't mind showing it. "Thank you," he said, beaming as everyone lifted their glasses. "Now, before the tryptophan-induced coma hits, and before we bring out dessert, I suggest we start cleaning up."

"Dessert?" Teyla asked in a distressed voice, her hand on her mouth. "I do not think I could eat..."

Rodney got to his feet before John could. "Yes, dessert, but not until clean up, which the cook will not do, right?" he said, looking around the table.

"Oh! Yes," Jackson said, glaring at Teal'c and Mitchell until they stood as well, reluctantly. 

John tried to object but Teyla patted his arm. "You have been cooking for a long time, John. Enjoy this as your due." She turned to Madison. "Perhaps Madison would like to show me her room? Ronon has mentioned the many things he found there." Ronon and Elizabeth also stood and began to collect plates and utensils.

"Oh!" Madison got down from her chair. "Okay!" She took Teyla's hand and pulled her down the hall.

Bemused, John went into the living room, crashed on the couch and found a couple of football games to bounce between on TV. He glared at the horrific pink thing in the middle of the floor and wondered how it could have a fatal accident. He patted his belly with satisfaction; for his first 'dinner party' and holiday, he thought he'd done pretty damn good.

* * *

Dessert had been eaten and cleaned up. Mitchell had returned to SGC, since he was on duty for Christmas evening; he took a couple dozen cookies with him. Jackson, Ronon and Teal'c were playing with some of Madison's Legos and didn't seem to think there was anything weird about it. Teyla and Elizabeth were in Madison's room. John had walked by it a couple of times and heard voices but no crying, so he let it be.

There was a tiny sliver of pumpkin pie left and John and Rodney were in the kitchen, sharing it. "This came off pretty well, didn't it?" John asked, smiling.

"Yeah, it did." Rodney passed him the fork -- why dirty two forks when they could share? "I hope Teyla and Elizabeth help Maddie out."

"I think they will. It's a good thing--"

There was a knock on the door and they frowned at each other. "You expecting anyone?" Rodney asked, pushing himself away from the counter.

"Nope." 

They went to the door and Rodney opened it to find his mother standing on the stoop, dressed in one of her fur coats. There was an envelope in her hand. "Meredith," she said. She did not ask to come in; she apparently knew entrance would be refused.

"What are you doing here?" Rodney said, sounding more tired than angry.

She looked down. "I... I wanted to give this... to you." She held out the envelope. "It's a gift. For my grandchild."

Shaking his head, Rodney took the envelope and opened it. "Your grandchild has a name, Branwen."

"Yes, yes, I know. It's just..."

John was looking over Rodney's shoulder and so saw the substantial check it carried. "Wow," he muttered, impressed.

"What is this?" Rodney said, putting the check back in the envelope. "What are you trying to do? Buy her? It's not going to work. Also, you can tell whoever you hired to tail us that we're tired of it and next time we see that car, we're going to--"

"Taping you," she said, breaking into Rodney's sentence. "He was taping you. Video. I thought..." she shook her head. "I thought I'd be able to..."

Rodney sighed. "There's nothing to find, Branwen. We're a pretty ordinary family."

"I know that now, I do, I saw..." She looked down; this was an entirely different woman than the one John had seen in the courthouse and he wondered what had happened to cause the change. "I saw the tape. All of you, playing, laughing. Having fun. Loving. I thought..."

"You thought what? That money would buy her love, would bribe her into loving you? Branwen, she doesn't want your money." He held the check out to her. "She wants her grandmother's love, that's what she wants. And I think you're incapable of giving it to her." He waved the check. "Here. Take this."

"No. Keep it." She looked up and finally met Rodney's gaze. "I know I haven't... I'm sorry. For all of it. Things have happened that have made me realize... how badly I mangled everything."

Rodney stared at her for quite a while before speaking again. "You could have had it, anytime you wanted it," he finally said. "From Dad, from me, from Jeannie, even from Madison. But you have to love in order to be loved in return, Mother." He dropped his arm. "I'll add this to her college fund. But as for you... the phrase 'too little, too late' works just fine." No one else would have noticed it, but Rodney's voice was shaking, very slightly. "You've made your bed, Branwen Maddox McKay, you'll have to excuse me that I feel no sympathy for you having to lie in it now." Rodney pulled back and gently closed the front door, turning and leaning against it, his eyes closed.

"Was that her?" Ronon's deep voice made them both turn. John was watching Rodney, ready to support him if necessary. "Your whacko mother?"

"Yeah." Rodney sighed. "That was her. In the flesh."

"She was different, Rodney," John said, his voice low.

"Yeah. She was. I don't think I've ever heard her say I'm sorry. I wonder what happened?"

They went back into the living room and sat down on the sofa, watching muted football and talking in low voices. Teyla and Elizabeth brought Madison out of her room, finally, and John rolled his eyes -- she was wearing the obnoxious princess dress again. He thought he could get Beelz to pee on it so it could be destroyed, but not even the damn cat obeyed him.

"Daniel," Madison said, plopping down in front of Jackson and ruining his Lego city, "Aunt 'Lizabeth said your parents died too, a long time ago. Did they?"

John saw Elizabeth wince and offer Jackson a mute apology, but Jackson just shook his head minutely. "Yeah, that's true, Maddie. I was a little older than you were, though."

In typical Madison style, she climbed into Jackson's lap. He moved so that he could hold her more comfortably. "How old were you?"

"I was eight."

"I'm six." 

"I know." Jackson smiled and brushed her hair away from her face. Her tiara was hanging on by one curl. "It doesn't matter how old you are, though."

John was sitting on the sofa directly behind Jackson and could see Madison's face clearly. "Did it hurt?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. It did. And it still does."

"But you're a grown-up now."

"Yes, but it doesn't matter how old you are, it always hurts," Jackson said, his voice sincere. "Look. I'm a grown-up, and it's been almost thirty years since they died, and I still feel it. You're always going to miss them, Maddie. It's just that the longer it is, the less it hurts."

"Oh." She looked down, playing with the buttons on his shirt. "It hurts lots now," she whispered.

"I know. But it hasn't even been a year for you." He gently pulled her in and hugged her. "I guarantee that next Christmas, it won't hurt as much as it does now. And the Christmas after that, it'll hurt even less. It just takes time." He smiled. "And you have something I didn't have... you have your uncles. I didn't have anyone."

"You didn't have nobody?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.

"No, I didn't. But that's in the past now. Someday, it will all be in the past for you, too."

She nodded but didn't say anything. John reached out and pulled Rodney into his embrace and kissed him on the forehead. "We're going to make it," he murmured.

Teyla, who was sitting on Rodney's other side, smiled. "Yes, you are," she said.

After a few moments, Elizabeth said, "I think we've found the perfect quarters for you three," which took the emphasis away from Madison and led them into easier topics.

It wasn't long before the excitement, the food, the guests and the presents took their toll on Madison -- she was out like a light within an hour. Rodney carefully lifted her off Jackson's lap who immediately rolled over with a groan, massaging his thighs. "I'm too old for this," he muttered.

"Indeed," Teal'c said, the glint of humor in his eyes. "Your parenting skills could use some honing, Daniel Jackson." 

Jackson grabbed one of the pillows from the couch and threw it at him. "You'd think I'd be used to it, after hanging around big kids like Jack and Cam."

"I'm wondering if I should be jealous," Ronon rumbled and John burst out laughing, even as Jackson gave Ronon an incredulous look.

Rodney was returning from putting Madison to bed when every cell phone in the house began to ring, chirp, blare or spout music. Teal'c was the first to open his, but Jackson and Elizabeth weren't far behind. John and Rodney had to dig to find Rodney's cell phone; it had been buried under the cushions of the couch.

Teal'c and Jackson stood as they listened, then Teal'c snapped his off. "We are needed, I am afraid." Jackson was still agreeing with something on his phone and Elizabeth was frowning at whatever she was hearing. "An Ori mothership has been sighted near Chulak. We will need to hurry if we are to meet them with sufficient force."

Rodney was still listening to their cell phone when Elizabeth closed hers up. "We're going to have to have the Odyssey beam us directly to the Mountain so we can return to Atlantis," she said, gathering up her things and looking around to make sure she had everything. "It's breaking orbit in ten minutes."

It was a rush to make sure nothing was forgotten. Everyone was upset that they were unable to say goodbye to Madison, but there was no way John or Rodney was going to wake her for that. And John was concerned about their own safety if the Ori were already at Chulak.

"We'll keep you posted," Jackson said, gripping John's arm before heading to Rodney's office. "Don't worry about it now. And thank you for a wonderful Christmas dinner. That was the best I've had in dozens of years."

Everyone said the same, Elizabeth adding a hug and Teyla bent to touch both their heads. "Madison and I had a good talk," she said quickly. "I will send you an email explaining what she said, but I do not believe you have anything to worry about."

Just like that, the house was theirs again. It was about seven in the evening, snow was _still_ falling, and the house was a wreck. John felt better than he had in months.

* * *

John was the first out of bed when Madison began screaming, but Rodney wasn't far behind. They'd really hoped she would sleep without interruption. It was lessened, John felt, her screams not as all-consuming, her body not as rigid. And it seemed to be over sooner too. He held out hope that they would eventually all end.

Rodney hit the bathroom before returning to bed. When he did, he found John still awake, his hands behind his head, studying the ceiling in the shadows. Rodney settled down at John's side with a sigh. "I was hoping," he murmured.

"Yeah. Me too." He couldn't see the ceiling but he could see other things -- his past, his present, but not his future. That remained cloudy and he couldn't quite figure out why. "Do you think we're going to make our deadline of the tenth?" he asked.

"Mmm. Don't know," Rodney replied, sounding half-asleep already.

"Sometimes I wonder. We've got an awful lot of... of _stuff_. Thoreau said to simplify--"

"It's oh-God-middle-of-the-night," Rodney said, "and you're quoting Thoreau? The ultimate hippy?"

John snorted. "Never heard him called _that_ before," he said. "Though the description is apt, I suppose."

"Anyone who demands simplicity in his life has obviously never been a parent." 

Nodding, John said, "Good point." After a moment, he added, "Not, of course, that we're good models for parents..."

"What do you mean not good models?" Rodney propped his head up on his hand to look at John. "We're excellent... well, okay, yeah. But I think between the two of us, we're doing okay."

"Yeah." Rodney's head over him was just a darker shadow in their room. John reached up with his hand and caressed Rodney's cheek, feeling an odd affection for the noisy genius he was actually married to. Married! Go figure. Rodney was a pain in the ass -- sometimes literally -- and could be too loud, too talkative, too everything. But John found himself happy. Crazy happy, but, yeah. Happy. "I think we are too."

Rodney shook his head, something John felt more than saw, and leaned down. "We're better together than we ever would be apart, you know," he said.

John grinned. "Notice that, did you?"

"Shut up, Yoda," Rodney said then sealed his lips over John's. 

It was dark, so very dark in their room that they had to rely on touch and vocal cues rather than expressions, rather than actually seeing what they were doing. There was a subtle feeling of illicitness, of hiding and sneaking behind it, which added to the arousal which was growing slowly between them. When Rodney reached down -- with one of his big, warm hands -- to touch John's erection, John took a shuddering breath. 

"Please," he whispered and the word disappeared into the darkness. 

But Rodney knew, Rodney knew _everything_ (as he was so fond of saying) and Rodney knew what John's plea was all about. Carefully, with gentle touches and barely breathed words, Rodney pushed his own and John's boxers down, tossing them somewhere in the dark of their bedroom. He rolled on top of John, settling between John's spread legs, kissing him, touching him all over, in the places John liked to be touched, in the places Rodney liked to feel. 

They were both hard, but it wasn't an all-consuming thing, there was no rush to the finale of climax. Instead, they just kissed languidly, in the dark, holding each other. Rodney's kisses were slow and wet and a little nasty, a little lewd, ratcheting up the tension between them. Every time Rodney left John's mouth, he'd explore another bit of skin somewhere, kissing, licking, gently sucking. It felt like a privilege to have this almost-secretive time together, in the middle of the night, in the dark, and John treated it like the gift it was.

Rodney was sucking on one of John's nipples while his other hand pinched and tugged the other. A particularly hard bite made John groan and arch. "Rodney," he whispered, his voice as ragged as his breath.

The supplies were on both sides of the bed -- be prepared was John's motto even though he'd never been a Boy Scout -- and he fumbled for the lube as Rodney tormented him with mouth and hand. Rodney fumbled with the lube, getting it open almost by accident since it was apparent his attention was elsewhere. He finally leaned up on his knees and John lifted his legs, spreading himself wide. Rodney couldn't see it, couldn't know but his breath caught anyway. 

Just coating his dick with lube, Rodney used his hands and fingers to find the entrance to John's body, going by touch and sound. John held himself wide and as Rodney's cock breached him, John sighed, a long, low, ecstatic sound that eased from his body as Rodney eased into it. Slow and deep, just the way they liked it, just the way it should be and John just let himself relax and sink into the mattress. 

Once Rodney was all the way in he stopped for a long moment. John could feel the deep breaths and hear the pulse of Rodney's heart, both in him and above him, could taste the sweat drops falling from Rodney's skin to his own. He released his legs, letting his body arch high and hard to get Rodney in that last micro-millimeter. Rodney's breath hitched again then he started a long, slow slide out. 

The darkness was complete but John knew, if he had night vision goggles, they would be seen as one, complete, whole unit. Not John and Rodney, but JohnRodney, together, a matched set. One with a couple of screws loose, but still. Better together.

Rodney lifted John's ass with his hands as he scooted a little closer. John let himself go limp, let his legs be picked up by Rodney's arms, let Rodney fuck him at whatever tempo he wanted. Their breathing, even their heartbeats, in sync, John just lost himself with Rodney and Rodney's rhythm. Each slow thrust raked over his prostate, each slow withdrawal made his toes curl in pleasure.

Finally, Rodney began to pick up the pace and John felt like he was at sea, his feelings cresting with each wave, each press inside ratcheting up until his climax overtook him, swamped him with his feelings, made him gasp for breath. He clenched inside and Rodney gave him just one, high-pitched whine before his hips began stuttering, before his thrusts became erratic. John almost felt as if he could feel Rodney come before Rodney's arms gave out and he collapsed on John's chest.

John caught him, easing him to one side, sighing as he felt Rodney slip from his body. After a while, John found their boxers and a baby-wipe (all hail merchandising), cleaned them up and went back to bed. Rodney was already lightly snoring lightly and John cuddled up against his broad shoulders, letting the darkness of sleep wash over both of them.

* * *

The day after Christmas in Canada was called 'boxing day' and John had no clue why or what it meant. There were a ton of boxes to throw away, so maybe it had to do with that.

Madison was up before the dawn but let them sleep in, thankfully. When John came out of the bedroom, he found her happily playing with the stupid Barbie thing, to which she had added an entire town made of Legos. She ran to him to give him the morning hug and together, they put coffee on and decided on pancakes for breakfast. 

The day passed slowly, which was good. It gave them time to clean up, time to move more things into crates for transport to Atlantis. There was still some paperwork to clean up, though the citizenship thing had been nearly resolved, thanks to the SGC. John would return to Canada some time in future, six months or so, to become officially Canadian. He asked Rodney if that meant he had to say "eh" in every sentence and received the pillow to his face in good grace.

They wouldn't be able to begin the formal adoption of Madison until John received citizenship, which made them feel a bit antsy. Rodney's lawyer, however, reassured them that it would be highly unlikely for Madison to go anywhere but where Rodney wished her to go upon his death. Which reminded them to update their wills and powers of attorney, and all the attendant crap that meant.

When they compared lists at the end of Boxing Day, however, they realized all the major hurdles had been met and covered. There were still a few things to go, but for the most part, they were ready. Both had a celebratory beer over that.

Rodney worked from home the rest of that week leading to the new year. His office looked almost pristine, considering the shape it had been in before -- most of the books were gone and the papers had been stored or shredded. Madison was becoming a little spastic being home all the time so John arranged for a play date with the Burmendez family. Meritas assured them she was going just as stir-crazy with Chrisobel and suggested a schedule for the girls to visit during the week school was out.

Madison also did some heavy-duty lobbying for staying up past midnight for New Year's. John knew Rodney was going to give in once she turned on the charm and promised -- cross her heart and hope to die -- that she would sleep in the next day. They did give in, eventually, and John got a bottle of Champagne and a bottle of sparkling apple juice for them to celebrate it.

Everything else outside their little cocoon was quiet. SGC hadn't contacted them, but did forward confirmation from Atlantis that Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon had returned safely, as well as Teyla's email talking about Madison. Just the fact that it was so quiet should have made John expect something, but when the cell phone blared in the middle of the night, the day before New Year's Eve, he was completely unprepared.

"It's bug-out time," Mitchell's hard voice on the other end of the phone told him. "How fast can you be ready?"

Jesus. He was hardly awake and had to think. "Uh..."

"I can give you half an hour, but that's it. Can you get everybody ready to go by then?" Mitchell sounded rushed and very professional which meant he was either scared or worried or both.

"I'll have to, won't I?" John said, nudging Rodney awake. 

"Use the device I gave you. We can do two beam-outs so grab clothing and stuff too. It'll probably be an Asgard ship. Twenty-eight minutes, Shep."

"Right. We're on our way." John glanced at his watch and groaned; it was three-fifteen in the morning. But shit... if it was an Asgard ship...

"Wha?" Rodney sat up in bed and winced when John turned on the lamp.

"Zero hour. We've got to be beamed up and down to the Mountain and we've got twenty-five minutes to do it." John was dressing as fast as he could as he talked. "Get dressed and start dumping our clothes into that one crate we were going to use for toys. Oh, and get Beelz too. I'll start on Madison's room."

Not waiting for Rodney's acknowledgement, John went into Madison's room and turned on her lamp. She was out, and it would take more than John's light to wake her, something he counted on. He opened all her drawers and closet and began grabbing things wholesale, not stopping to remove from hangers or anything. He and Rodney got in each other's way briefly as they tossed stuff in the thankfully empty crate, but neither cared. 

While Rodney wrestled Beelz into her carrier, John stood still in the middle of the living room, closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and thought about what else they might need. There were a few toys and things Madison wouldn't want to be without, including the stuffed dog and tiara. They'd need food for Beelz, which he saw Rodney working on in the kitchen. He went back into Madison's room and gathered the few books left and tossed them in the crate. With a start he realized he also needed their hampers of dirty clothes; he just dumped them into the crate along with towels and such. 

He looked at his watch and realized they still had a couple of minutes to spare. He went through their bathroom with a small suitcase, dumping things like toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant and shampoo into it. He diverted to the bedside tables and added the lube and a box of condoms. When he'd gotten everything he could think of, he put the suitcase in the second crate, the one that was full of essential papers, like their wills and passports. 

They were out of time. "Rodney?"

"Okay, I'm here, just grabbing the last few things." 

He ran to the office and saw Beelz protesting in her carrier. "Two trips," John said. He pulled the device from his pocket. "You go first with the one crate and Beelz, I'll go next with the other crate and Madison."

Rodney nodded. His face was pale and set. He took the device from John then suddenly lunged, kissing John hard. "Just in case," he murmured, nodding. Then he clicked the device and was beamed up.

John pushed the other crate into position and went to get Madison. She was still out, so he just picked her up in her pajamas and carried her to the office. He leaned against the crate and exhaled just as the beam caught him.

The Asgard always creeped him out, but he wasn't on their ship longer than it took to point them back to the Mountain. Madison hadn't even woken, though when the dry, chilly air from the HVAC units at Cheyenne Mountain hit her, she began to squirm. They were in a side alcove just off a main drag and the noise was pretty bad: warning blares and PA announcements.

Rodney wasn't there, but their crates were, as well as Beelz who was royally pissed. John found a chair and arranged Madison on his lap, talking to her quietly. There were Marines passing who smiled at them, even though they looked rushed.

"Maddie? Hey, Beav, you awake?"

Madison's eyes dragged open and her voice was thick from sleep. "Unca John?"

"Yep, it's me." John cuddled her close, brushing the hair back from her forehead and making sure the stuffed dog was in her arms. 

She was frowning and beginning to cling as she looked around. "Where are we?"

"We're at the Mountain," John replied softly. "The Asgard beamed us up and down while you were asleep, sleepy head." He kissed the top of her head as she burrowed into his embrace. She was trembling and John tightened his arms around her. "It's okay, we just had to leave early."

"Why..."

Madison's question was cut off by another voice. "Oh, thank God." It was Carter, in BDUs and a tac vest. "They got you out." She crouched on the concrete floor. "Hi, kiddo."

"Sam?" 

Over Madison's head, John's eyes met Carter's gaze. "In the flesh. Daniel is here too, somewhere. We've got a big emergency going on so we needed to make sure everybody who needed to be somewhere else was. Looks like you were asleep."

"Uh-huh." Even as she pushed back into John's embrace, she took the hand Carter offered her. "What's going on?"

Carter sighed. "It's those pesky Ori guys. They just won't take a hint. We're going to be needing the 'gate so we figured we should get you off to Atlantis before we did." Carter's gaze met John's again. "You doing okay there, kiddo? I know it's a shock to wake up in someplace completely different."

"What's going to happen to the house? And Beelz?"

John pointed to Beelz's carrier. "I'm surprised you didn't hear her," he said. "We got everything we could get, and if there's stuff leftover, we'll just have to come back to get it."

"Oh, yes that's right, can you give me your keys?" Carter said. "I'm going to get a technician to go back and look after everything, clean up your exit."

John had to shift Madison to reach his keys and her grip on his t-shirt nearly ripped it. "Here," he said, handing the set to Carter. "Rodney's got the other set."

"One's all I need. I'll get Walter to assign someone and they'll email you in Atlantis when they're done. And how come I didn't know you had a cat?"

"She doesn't like people much," Madison said. John was relieved to feel her calming. "She likes who she likes and nobody else. Are you going to fight?"

"I might have to," Carter said. John was impressed with her tone of voice -- just enough casual mixed with a bit of resignation. "But we'd all rather not. You'll find out when we do."

Rodney's voice cut through the bustle. "Carter!" he called, jogging to them. "Hey, Three-M, you okay?" he bent down to look at her face and she nodded. "Good. You're doing better than Beelzebub over there, then. Walter told me to give you my keys?"

"Got John's already. We'll send a team to get your place cleaned up and ready to be mothballed." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, we've had lots of experience doing that," she added.

"I don't envy you, but I think we got most of it. They'll just have to clean out the perishable food. And the tree. Crap." He turned to John and Madison. "We have to leave shortly and you don't have shoes on," he said, frowning at Madison's feet.

"First crate," John said. "I put her slippers in there. She needs her robe, too."

Carter helped Rodney open the crate and fished out Madison's slippers and robe. "Let me help you," she said, putting Madison's slippers on and getting her to stand long enough to put the robe around her. "There. You look a lot more comfortable."

"Can't I get dressed?" Madison asked, looking between them.

"No time, Three-M," Rodney replied, taking one of her hands. "We're hustling out of here."

"Already?" John asked, looking from Rodney's pale, pinched face to the worried lines around Carter's mouth and eyes.

"Yeah." Rodney patted Madison's hand. "You ready for your first trip through the stargate?"

"I guess," Madison said, still pressing close to John. 

Carter crouched down again. "Give me a hug for luck?" she asked and Madison wrapped her arms around Carter's neck and squeezed. 

John took the distraction to turn to Rodney, raising his eyebrows, his face full of questions. Rodney shook his head hard and pursed his lips. It was that bad, then.

Four technicians arrived with equipment to carry the crates. "That's my cue," Carter said. She kissed Madison's cheek. "You be good and watch out for your uncles, okay? Don't let them get away with anything." Madison barely smiled and nodded her head. "I'm sure I'll see you all in Atlantis soon. Have a safe trip." As she turned to jog away, the PA system blared with her name.

By the time they got to the gateroom, the chevrons were dialing. General Landry and General O'Neill were there to see them off, and Landry gave Madison a preoccupied smile. With the familiar roar, the stargate opened and settled to the rippling blue of the wormhole.

"We'll be keeping in touch with Atlantis," O'Neill said as technicians began pushing several crates, not just their own, through the 'gate. 

Rodney took Beelzebub's carrier and made sure to have one of Madison's hands. "Good luck, General Landry, General O'Neill," John said, taking Madison's other hand.

The techs had cleared the ramp. "Okay, let's go," Rodney said. 

John felt Madison hanging back. "It's okay," he said, dropping to one knee. "You know more about it than I do. You know it's safe."

Her face was tense and her breathing rapid. "I..."

"Did I ever tell you how I went through my first time?" John asked. "I'd never gone through it before and didn't even know what it was. It looked like water, and I thought I had to hold my breath."

"It's not water, Unca John," Madison said, and he was relieved to hear that familiar Rodney-esque tone in her voice. "It's an art-tee-fishul wormyhole."

"Yep. And I didn't have to close my eyes or hold my breath, but I did. Do you want to?" he stood again, still holding her hand.

Madison took a deep breath and looked up at John, then at Rodney, who had somehow managed to curb his usual brusqueness. "No. Yes. Well, maybe." John and Rodney smiled and she looked a little less freaked. "Okay."

They walked slowly together to the event horizon and John winked then made a show of holding his breath as he stepped through. Madison held her breath too, and released it in the 'gateroom of Atlantis, where everyone was waiting for them.

end


End file.
